"Wake up, Houshao'nao! I didn't mean it—" Anna fumbled, cradling his limp form.
In her arms, Houshao'nao's eyes stared blankly, consciousness slipping like a bird gliding on distant winds, carried toward an endless, shadowy horizon.
"Father, help! He's not breathing—" Anna sobbed, panic clawing at her throat as his chest stilled.
Then—*mouth-to-mouth*. She remembered, laying him flat and pressing her lips to his, breathing life into him with desperate puffs. One, two, three…
His chest heaved, color returning, but she didn't stop, terrified the fragile thread of life might snap. Gradually, his eyelids fluttered, the world rushing back—soft light, Anna's tear-streaked face, a single crystal tear dangling from her chin.
"Miss Anna? Why are you crying?" he mumbled, dazed.
"N-nothing. Are you okay?" She wiped her cheeks, awkward.
"I was flying… so high… then fell," he muttered, rubbing his head.
Anna snorted a laugh, tears still falling. *"Idiot. You stole another kiss, and you don't even remember."*
"Wait—why are we here?" He glanced around, confused.
"To get the lizard dragon? Ring any bells?"
"Not really. Just a headache and… this bump." He winced, touching the egg-sized lump on his temple.
Anna laughed again, torn between relief and irritation. *"You're lucky I didn't kill you. Next time, I'll aim for your *other* head."*
"Anna, what's taking so long?" Sheffield's voice boomed from the doorway.
"Shit—Father's here! Get up!" She hauled Houshao'nao to his feet, snatching the lizard dragon.
Sheffield entered, eyeing the spilled sandbag, Anna's guilty face, and Houshao'nao's dazed stare. *Another prank gone wrong,* he sighed.
"Anna, last. Time." He warned, serious.
"Yes, Father! I swear! Now let's go—everyone's waiting," she chirped, darting out with a mischievous glance at Houshao'nao.
"Am I… okay?" he mumbled, staring at the lipstick smudge on his hand.
Sheffield shook his head, following his daughter. *Teenagers.*
Anna rode off, laughing at the memory of his dazed face, the kiss she'd never admit to. *Why did it feel… not entirely awful?*
"Boss! You're alive? That witch didn't burn you?" the donkey brayed, eyeing his lump.
"Shut up. I'm trying to remember," Houshao'nao grumbled, still touching his lips.
With Anna gone, life settled into a calm routine—work for Sheffield, afternoons with Dier, who now obsessed over entering Aifar Magic Academy. But the real change was Sheffield, haunting the guild (hall), badgering young female mercenaries with a bizarre quest: *"10,000 gold coins to investigate Aifar. Age 16, female, no questions asked."*
"Are you mad? Aifar's cursed!"
"People disappear there!"
"Not a chance—graduates go insane!"
Each rejection left Sheffield more desperate. In his (secret chamber), Giles fretted: "We're too picky. Loosen the age limit."
"Loosen? This isn't a brothel, Giles! We need someone, harmless—"
"A man, then?" Sheffield suddenly grinned.
"A *man*? Have you lost—"
"Not just any man. Ugly, weak, stupid, cowardly… ring any bells?"
Giles paused, realization dawning. "Houshao'nao."
Sheffield laughed. "Perfect. Clumsy, unremarkable, terrified of his own shadow. But—"
"But what? He's ideal!" Giles snickered.
Sheffield hesitated. "I still don't trust his secrets. But after today—"
That night, Sheffield spied on Houshao'nao wrestling his donkey in the stable, mud on his face, (broom) in hand, yelling: "You mangy beast! I'll beat you into glue!"
The donkey brayed, kicking up hay. *"You started it, you hairless ape!"*
Sheffield nodded, decisive. *"Yes. He's the one. Fool enough to survive, weak enough to control."*
And so the plan solidified—a pawn in a game of crowns and curses, unaware that his "simple life" was about to shatter, swept into a quest for a princess with a blood-red necklace, a dragon trapped in a donkey's body, and a destiny written in fire and lies.
Somewhere, Dier traced the ancient runes on her palm, dreaming of Aifar's libraries. Somewhere, Anna roasted marshmallows with her lizard dragon, wondering why her new classmate's laugh reminded her of a certain idiot's dazed smile. And somewhere, the (VIP) clutched his *Blood Bond* necklace, unaware the key to his daughter lay in a bumbling boy who couldn't even outwit a donkey.
The stage was set. The pawn moved. And the storm, long brewing, began to howl.